


Blooming, Wilting

by QuantumEntangledOtaku



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, Colors, Fluff and Angst, I wrote this as an English final, M/M, Post-Canon, Suicide Attempt, Viktor is Yuri's coach, how do you even tag, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuantumEntangledOtaku/pseuds/QuantumEntangledOtaku
Summary: There are three characteristics of soulmates everybody learns from the time they are children. One, meeting your soulmate turns the world from black-and-white into color. Two: soulmates can feel when each other are in distress, and three: should one's soulmate die, their world will turn back into black-and-white.Of these three characteristics, there were two Viktor Nikiforov always remembered, and one he almost forgot.





	Blooming, Wilting

**Author's Note:**

> Possible trigger warning for the reactions to a suicide attempt. I didn't describe anything in detail, but make sure to stay safe everyone!

It had been three years, seven months, and fifteen days since Viktor Nikiforov first saw the world in color. He could still remember the moment the haze of black-and-white left with a perfect clarity, despite having been bored out of his mind and slightly tipsy when it happened. At first, he had looked around the Grand Prix Final banquet room nervously, his heart beating out of his chest at the sudden onslaught of color. At first, he wasn’t completely sure that this wasn’t another elaborate dream wherein he met his soulmate, although he had never had one this vivid before.

The moment his eyes locked on the raven-haired Japanese skater drunkenly staggering around the room, Viktor knew. He was glad that one of the first colors he saw could be the beautiful chocolate brown of the younger man’s eyes.

It had been over three years since Viktor Nikiforov first saw the world in color, but that didn’t mean his love story had gone quite as smoothly as he would have liked. He had woken up the day after the banquet with his heart fluttering, and sobbed into his pillow for half an hour after opening his eyes and looking around the room, shining in the morning sun. Once he had calmed down from _that_ , he made the mistake of going through the pictures from the banquet on his phone, and burst into tears _again_ at how very beautiful they looked awash with the sparkling colors. Eventually Yakov had come into his room so they could prepare for their flight back to Saint Petersburg, and Viktor could swear that his coach shed a few tears when Viktor clung to him and recounted the events of the previous evening.

That part had been easy, but everything began to go downhill as the Russian team was leaving the Final center. Still awash with the notion that he had _met his soulmate_ , Viktor cheerily tried to give fourteen-year-old Yuri some advice about his program, not even bothered by the teen’s moodiness. He did have to bite back commenting on how absolutely stunning Yuri’s pale blond hair looked, but the observation still put a small smile on his face.

As they prepared to leave, Viktor’s entire body began tingling in a way he had never felt before, and his heart stopped as he paused and turned around. When his eyes fell on the small frame and gorgeous brown eyes of Yuuri Katsuki, fixed directly on him, a rush of warmth and happiness shot through Viktor’s body. He felt tears once again welling in his eyes as he unabashedly stared at his amazing soulmate, until he noticed the distressed look on the younger skater’s face. Some instinct deep within him panicked, screaming at him to comfort his other half, but what if he messed up? He didn’t know what to do here; all he knew was that he could feel the pain Yuuri was carrying like it was his own, and he hated it.

He hated it even more, though, when Yuuri turned and walked away from Viktor without responding to his proposal for a photo. There was another sharp stab of pain in his chest, but this time, he wasn’t sure to which one of them it had originally belonged.

* * *

 

In the twenty-six years of his life before the Grand Prix Final banquet, Viktor had occasionally felt the phantom pains that came when his soulmate was in deep distress. It was a way for people to be sure they had a soulmate, and sometimes Viktor would try to imagine what was happening to his own. Sometimes, he would try to silently send out support, wishing that his soulmate, whoever they were, could somehow take comfort from knowing that he was listening.

After finally being able to see color and put the beautiful face of Yuuri Katsuki to the word “soulmate”, though, the phantom pains Viktor felt quickly began to grow worse. He wasn’t sure if it was the result of finally meeting face-to-face, or if his soulmate was going through a particularly hard part in his life, but in the year after the banquet, it seemed like Viktor was in pain all of the time. He learned to distinguish pain that began with him from the pain he felt as a result of his soulmate’s own distress, only to be shocked at how completely entangled his emotions were with those of a man he had met only once. Although he loved the ability to see in color, the pain combined with silence on the part of his soulmate made Viktor question just if this whole thing was even worth it.

Once he saw the video of Yuuri skating to _Stammi Vicino_ and took a leap of faith in flying to Japan, things began to get better. The next year flew by in the fervor of coaching Yuuri and learning about him as a skater and a soulmate. By the time they exchanged engagement rings in Barcelona, a mere eight months after reconnecting, the memory of the soulmate pain had faded, and Viktor was caught up in the joy of seeing the world in color with his beautiful Yuuri by his side.

A year later, Yuuri finally won a gold medal ( _gold_ ; it was such a fitting name for the amazing color that had quickly captivated Viktor almost as much as his soulmate’s beautiful eyes) and the two of them got married. Viktor’s memories of that day were awash in a vivid rainbow of color, like the night he had met Yuuri. He had felt light surround and envelop him, reminding him again and again that _yes_ , Yuuri Katsuki was his soulmate, the only person for him, and Viktor Nikiforov couldn’t _wait_ to spend the rest of his life with this beautiful, perfect, amazing man.

There was still pain of course; neither Viktor nor Yuuri were perfect after all, but Viktor couldn’t imagine anything worse than that awful time when they had been separated. He didn’t realize, yet, that soulmates had a third, more desperate, tie binding them together. 

* * *

 

As a child, Viktor had learned that when one’s soulmate died, they went back to seeing the world in the same black-and-white they had before meeting their soulmate. His childhood self had been abhorred by this information, unable to imagine what it would be like seeing the world as he did then after growing so used to seeing it in a million different subtle shades that he couldn’t even imagine.

After meeting Yuuri and seeing color, Viktor maintained this childhood belief, although now the pain was caused more by imagining life without his soulmate than imagining the world without color. Both hurt too much, and Viktor couldn’t go very long thinking about either before he had to limpet-cling to Yuuri and remind himself that color and his perfect soulmate both still existed in the world. He hoped there would be a way for the two of them to die together as old men so that neither of them would have to exist in the world without the other.

One year and one month had passed since Viktor and Yuuri had gotten married, and in that time, the pain they felt when the other was in distress had manifested itself a bit more. Viktor was acutely aware that his soulmate had anxiety, and that it could cripple him like it had at the Cup of China in the first year of their acquaintance. In a way, he was grateful for the soulmate pain, because it meant that his Yuuri never had to suffer alone, and alerted Viktor so he could provide support if something was wrong. It was helping teach the two of them to trust each other and making their relationship closer, Viktor knew.

Despite this though, Viktor couldn’t deny that in the past few weeks, his soulmate’s anxiety had grown more persistent. He hadn’t been able to figure out what was causing it, since it always seemed to be a million little things, and Yuuri and he were still learning how to be open with each other. Going to work alone was a bit more difficult now, as he didn’t want to be away if his soulmate needed him, but he still did it. He needed to be able to trust Yuuri to be alone and call him if needed.

Today, though something seemed different. When Viktor first opened his eyes that morning, he immediately became aware of a hard, cold feeling deep in his chest. His first instinct was that something was wrong with Yuuri, but when he rolled over in bed, heart pounding nervously, his husband was curled into a ball, his face peacefully calm as he slept. Relaxing, Viktor had peppered relieved kisses on his soulmate’s face, and the cold feeling was almost completely eased when Yuuri’s sleepy brown eyes blinked open and he smiled softly.

After that, Viktor had gone alone to the rink to work with Yuri, Yuuri staying behind as it was his day off. He tried to stay upbeat, but the cold feeling in his chest was steadily growing more insistent. After two hours, he was sure that his anxiety was presenting itself in his skating, if Yuri’s suspicious looks were anything to go by.

And then everything went wrong all at once.

Viktor was in the middle of demonstrating a step sequence for Yuri when the cold feeling in his chest swelled suddenly, almost crushing in its intensity. Abruptly, Viktor slid to a stop on the ice, gasping and falling to his knees as one hand clutched at the fabric of his shirt over his heart. His skin felt cold to the touch, and he could feel sweat beading on his forehead as his body began to frantically shake. Instantly, his mind jumped to, _Yuuri._

“Oi Viktor! What the hell are you doing?” Yuri’s annoyed voice called from the side of the rink, and strangely enough, the sound helped ground Viktor. Shakily, he lifted his head to look into the teenager’s piercing green eyes (Yuri had gained the ability to see in color in Barcelona, and the very first thing he did was proclaim that his eye color was the best in the entire world) and offered a small smile. Yuri raised an eyebrow, but the cold relaxed its claim a little, enough for Viktor to stand. Just one more jump, he told himself. He would demonstrate the quad flip for Yuri, then take a break and call Yuuri. Surely his soulmate was fine… right?

He taking off for the jump when it happened next.

One moment, everything was fine. Viktor was in his element, focused on the shimmering white of the ice behind him, and the edge of his golden skates, calculating the specifics of the jump effortlessly in his head. The next, he was launching into the air, and suddenly everything had gone black-and-white.

He fell out of the air with a sickening _crack_ , not even managing to complete one rotation. His hip was throbbing and he could feel the wetness of blood, but Viktor desperately kept his eyes squeezed closed. No _._ No no no no _no_. Color… color only vanished when a soulmate died, and if Viktor was suddenly seeing black-and-white, then Yuuri… _no_.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you today, old man!?” Viktor heard Yuri’s angry voice and the scrape of his skates as he skated over, but Viktor’s eyes remained closed. He could feel tears squeezing themselves out from under his closed blue eyes ( _oh god, would he even be able to see blue anymore?_ ), and his arms shook as he half-heartedly tried to push himself up.

He fell before getting very far, but Yuri’s hands were suddenly wrapped around his bicep, yanking him until he was lying on his back on the ice. Viktor felt the hand falter, then touch his face, and his eyes flew open in shock.

The eyes staring worriedly back into his own perfectly matched the light gray of their owner’s hair. _No._

Yanking his arm out of Yuri’s grip, Viktor frantically pressed his hands to his eyes, smearing his tears all over his eyelids as he rubbed at them. Maybe it was just a mistake; maybe everything was fine, maybe-

“What. The. _Hell?_ ” Yuri’s eyes- and everything else- were still their previous shade of gray when Viktor’s reopened.

He practically choked on his tears when he opened his mouth to answer, but right as he got out, “Yuri-”, there was another flash, and suddenly the eyes he was staring into were green once again. Gasping, Viktor’s eyes flickered around the rest of the rink. The ice was white, Yuri’s hair was blond, and the jacket Viktor had stolen from Yuuri that morning was black. _Yuuri._

Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Viktor desperately grabbed onto his student’s forearms. “Yura, there’s something wrong with Yuuri!”

Yuri’s initial reaction was just to raise an eyebrow, but when he took in the terrified look on Viktor’s face, his hands ( _thankfully_ still a warm pinkish-yellow color) began fiddling with themselves and he said, “What do you mean?”

“I- he’s in trouble. E-everything went black-and-white, for a minute. T-the color’s back n-now, but Yura, we _have_ to go.” Yuri’s eyes widened dramatically and his face paled when Viktor was finally able to choke out a coherent explanation.

“Things… things went black-and-white? A-are you sure?” he stammered nervously.

Blinking back tears, Viktor nodded. “Your… your eyes were g-gray, Yura. I c- I couldn’t see. It hurt so m-much.”

For a moment, there was silence, as Viktor screamed at himself to get up; his soulmate was in trouble. Before he could break the trance, though, Yuri was grabbing his hands and yanking him to his feet. “Get _the fuck_ moving, old man, we have to get back and check on the katsudon!”

Viktor and Yuri were out on the streets of Saint Petersburg two and half minutes later, not even noticing the blizzard they dashed through in their training clothes and untied sneakers.

* * *

 

When they finally got back to the apartment, Viktor hesitated on the threshold. Inside, he would probably find Yuuri close to death. He wasn’t sure if he could handle that; if he _ever_ would be ready to. Yuri, luckily, had no such hesitations.

The second Viktor showed signs of hesitating, his student gave an angry growl and ripped the keys out of his hand, shoving them into the lock and opening the door. Slamming it open, Yuri was a storm as he dragged Viktor by the hand and bellowed, “ _Katsudon!_ ” at the top of his lungs.

There was no answer. Viktor’s heart beat in his throat, and when Yuri twisted around to look at him, the world flashed out of color again. The green eyes were gray, and Viktor felt like he had been doused with ice water. They… they couldn’t be too late, could they?

_“Yuuri!”_ Viktor was in the lead this time as he ran into their bedroom, trying to peer through the haze of his tears and colorless world. “Yura, t-the color’s g-gone again!” Yuri gasped and began racing through the halls as quickly as Viktor.

Their bedroom was distressingly empty, but right as Viktor was about to give up hope and submit to his relentless tears, Yuri happened to wander by the bathroom and let out a high-pitched scream that Viktor was quite certain had never come from his student ever in the boy’s entire life.

Racing over, Viktor threw open the door and was greeted first with a pool of darkish gray liquid that he instinctively knew to be blood. Tears welled in his eyes as he followed the trail up, and right as his eyes connected with the source of the blood, color once more returned in order to offer Viktor a perfect, much too cruel view.

A view of his Yuuri- his precious husband and soulmate- lying on the floor of the bathroom in a puddle of his own blood. A harsh sob tore through Viktor, and he crashed to his knees on the ground, burying his head desperately into the younger man’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. He could figure as much by the way the world kept alternating between color and black-and-white, but it was there, just incredibly faint.

“Yura, call for an ambulance _right now!_ ” Viktor demanded in a scarily calm voice, and Yuri was out of the bathroom in half a second. Part of Viktor breathed a silent sigh of relief; the teenager should not be seeing this, seeing the way Viktor had completely and utterly _failed_ at his job as a soulmate. Soulmates were supposed to love each other unconditionally, be their reason for living, and give each other support and reassurance that they were needed. Viktor literally _could not_ imagine life without his precious, perfect Yuuri and he had through surely the feeling was mutual; surely Yuuri loved him too-

_No._ This was not the time for this. He and Yuuri could have this talk later, later _once his soulmate was no longer lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood._

With shaking hands, Viktor pulled Yuuri’s head into his lap, trying to clean off some of the blood clinging to his black hair. It was coming from his wrists, Viktor noticed, and grabbed towels to press against them. He felt tears clog up his throat as he remained focused on his soulmate’s closed eyelids, vividly picturing the brown eyes behind them like his life depended on it… and for all senses and purposes, _it did_.

Finally, _finally_ , Viktor heard the wail of sirens from the streets below him, but he didn’t dare remove his eyes from his soulmate for _one minute_. He squeezed as hard as he dared into Yuuri’s wrists, begging to every deity he could think of that _the world continue to remain in color._ Those two black-and-white flashes had terrified him more than anything in his thirty years of life, and he knew that for the rest of it he would be haunted by the fear of color being abruptly cut off and not returning.

The sirens were getting closer. Viktor bowed his head and clung tighter to Yuuri, finally allowing himself to blink as relieved yet anxious tears fell from his eyes. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe Yuuri would make it. Yuuri _had_ to make it; if he didn’t, Viktor didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t live out the rest of his life in a black-and-white world after having a taste of color; he couldn’t go back to his loveless life after he had met and lost Yuuri Katsuki.

Time stood still as Viktor waited in a silent limbo on the floor of his bathroom. His mind replayed all the signs from that day and before that his soulmate senses had been trying to warn him of; this decision- his soulmate’s choice to _try and kill himself_ \- had clearly been long-standing, only Viktor hadn’t realized it.

If- _when_ \- Yuuri survived, the two of them were going to need to _talk._

The day Viktor Nikiforov could remember with the most clarity was the one where he had gained his color. The second was the day the color had bloomed into its full potential, when he married his gorgeous soulmate. The third was the day he lost it, then gained it again.

That day was permanently scarred into Viktor’s mind as a mixture of harsh gray, the grating wail of sirens, and the pulsing of his heart. Even once the paramedics came, he was reluctant to let go of his soulmate. Eventually, Yuri and a woman whose face Viktor couldn’t for the life of him remember had to pry his hands away in order to haul Yuuri up onto the stretcher.

That day ended with him in the arms of his eighteen-year-old student, sobbing harder than he ever had in his life as the world finally bypassed gray and faded to a blissful shade of black.

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely adore Soulmate AUs, and after hiding out in the shadows and reading for awhile, I decided to try my hand at writing one. This is my first AO3 story, so forgive me if it's completely terrible. Comments/kudos are always welcome!


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